He Listens: A Narrative Essay About the Different Perspective of UNTITLED

    Ever since I was young I usually pray before sleeping. I always do it because my Mom told me to. Honestly speaking, we are not that religious family. We don’t go to church very often, even up until now. However, God and saints were not new to us since my grandmother was a “mananabtan”— the one that leads the prayer. Every member of my family, we have this tradition that we have a specific church to go to whenever our birthday comes. We would visit the churches, light candles, and pray. Praying was the only thing I knew to communicate with God. Praying… I knew it was important. I knew it was nice. What I did not know was if it really works.

     As I was slowly growing up, I was able to maintain the practice or at least do the sign of the cross before sleeping.

    Continuing my life as a Junior High School student, I was just like a typical girl whose life routine went like running in circles. Home to school, school to home— it was what it was as my every day passed by. Even so, my life was not that meaningless at all, I had so much fun, in fact. I was able to learn great things, experience fun moments, met new people that I never knew I would treasure until the present, and of course, show who I am. Showing who I am is sharing what I have got in life and I have got this interest in dancing which gave my life a little bit of flavor. Adding the spice, I discovered my interest in writing, which leads me to the answer.

    When I started writing it seemed like I couldn’t stop doing it anymore. I kept writing whenever I got the time to. I was also able to show it to a larger number of people. I was gradually starting to face my fear of being on stage whenever I present a piece. And that’s nice. What was nicer was being chosen to compete with other students on campus and whoever is chosen among us will have a chance to compete in the City. I was challenged about that because I invested pretty big in writing way back in those days. The fact that it will also be the first contest that I’d be joining if ever I will be chosen. The thing was I was informed late. I only had the night to write and familiarize the piece for the next day. Because of the undying pressure I was having, I prayed before I started writing. I prayed to God to guide me on writing a good one because despite the limited time, being afraid, and everything that was making me doubt myself, there was a part of me that wanted it. There was a part of me that wanted me to own it—the stage, the people, and the award. A big part of me wanted it. I prayed so deeply that I could say that it was one of the deepest prayers I had done.

    The process went smoothly. I finished it earlier than expected and even familiarized most of it. The piece I just wrote made it to the top list of my favorite poems that I have made. And it was beyond satisfying especially when I got chosen and even won first place in the City contest.

 

    I started it with a prayer and ended it with it as well. The satisfaction I felt that time was irreplaceable and there was no reason not to thank Him for being with me in the entire process of a great experience. That was when I realized that prayer works and knew that He listens. I also realized that not because He listens he will give it to you, He will give it to you when you put love and passion as you deliver it to him, and make action for it to become how you wanted it to be because, after all, that is how prayer works.

        

The TOTGA Thoughts of Chinnie Balungcas

    Chinnie Balungcas, 17, a Grade 12 student, daughter, granddaughter, responsible, brave, ambitious, and a TOTGA. The one that got away. You might ask why, in what part or in what situation, and how. Well, her story happened.

    Chinnie is in a family of eight—her parents and her 5 siblings. Her mother, Gina, is a housewife, and her father, Arnold, is an Overseas Filipino Worker(OFW) in Papua New Guinea. Her siblings are named: Pamela, Geselle, Karel, Justin, and John Michael. She is the fourth child of her parents. Her family lives in Manila except for her father who is working abroad, and she, who is living with her grandparents on her mother's side.

    Erlinda Lapiz, 72, the grandmother, took her from her parents when she was eight(8) months old. It was because her parents couldn't sustain her needs; her father was jobless at that time and the reason why their family is financially unstable. So, Erlinda, together with Alejandro, 82, the grandfather, raised Chinnie like she was their own flesh. Chinnie grew up with them thinking the same way. In fact, she hasn't even been given a chance to meet her family personally. 

    To Chinnie, growing up away from her primary family felt like nothing when she was young. However, as she grows up becoming an adolescent, there she felt the emptiness within her which made her feel like she was an unsolved puzzle and the only thing that could complete her was her family. There were a couple of times that she was asked by people around her if she wanted to be with them and ironically, her answer was always "no". She doesn't want to leave her grandparents behind especially since they are old now. She wanted to spend more time with them and cherish every moment. After all, they are the ones that acted as her parents throughout her whole existence and served as her support system. She wanted to tell them that she is beyond grateful to have them and would spit out endless reasons why she love them. They filled that emptiness. 

    Chinnie is thankful to her parents as well for bringing her into this world. For her, without them, she would not be here. And if given a chance to talk to them, she would definitely utter the word and of course, ask personal questions that she failed to get the answers alone like: "Why didn't they visit me here in Cebu?" There are also times that she is curious to know how does it felt like to have a mother on her side whom she can share her problems with and a father who can help her whenever she is struggling with her projects. Whichever angle she was trying to look at, it wasn't easy seeing complete families while she was alone. The only things that keep them in touch were the internet and the monthly allowance they are giving to her as financial support.

    "Being the only one means you should train your mind to handle things on your own, that you must figure things out with less help from others. For me that was the hardest part, fighting on your own." Chinnie said. "To myself, I am proud of how strong you are because you have encountered several tough battles yet you are still here, still fighting. I am proud of what you are today, always keep striving hard, and whenever you feel tired just rest but do not give up. In the end, I know you will look back and realize how thankful you are for not giving up." she added.

    Lastly, her message to those who are experiencing the same or similar situation as her: "Keep your courage on fire people, I know that God planned something great for us. But for now, let's endure the hard times and surely there will be a bright future that awaits us."

UNTITLED: A Memoir

It was the year 2021 and it was almost 8 in the evening, I was doing my usual thing— cleaning and preparing the bed. And knowing how lazy I was, I rested as if I worked all day after doing that. I sit like a frog on my bed then lie down and repeat, and then wide-eyed staring at my phone because it was all that I spent my time on. 

I was scrolling on social media, when a chat head of a friend of mine, Erika, appeared on screen that made my gaze shift on it. I opened it and read the message “Brethney, ana si Miss Dakay nga pahimoun daw ta ug tula about Drug Awareness for competition daw, kita tulo ni Johannes. Screening pa daw ugma, pilian ta”. I answered her, “Huh? Ugma dayon?” She said yes and that they were actually informed days ago but Ms. Dakay forgot to tell me. Plus, she said that we need to memorize the piece or if not, at least familiarize it. 

I only had a few hours left to do the task so to be sure that I am going to focus on doing it, I informed my mother that I was going to do something and it was urgent and I asked them to not call me and disturb me for a moment. I explained to her why and knowing my mother’s loving support of me making this like I was already chosen to present it, she did what I said. She even scolded my sister for laughing so loudly. 

My heart was pumping so hard because I don’t like presenting in front of people, I don’t like it when everyone’s eyes are on me plus the fact that it was my first time going to present a piece of mine for a competition, even though it was just only for screening that time. Because of the undying pressure I was having, I prayed before I started writing. I prayed to God to guide me on writing a good one because despite the limited time, of being afraid and of everything that was making me doubt myself, there was a part of me that wanted it. There was a part of me that wanted me to own it—the stage, the people and the award. A big part of me wanted it. I prayed so deeply that I could say that it was one of the deepest prayers I had done.

In the middle of the silence that my mother was providing me, I started writing. Gathering all the ideas that came into my mind, connecting them as if they were like water and humans to each other. A very nice piece was starting to be a whole. And when it did become a whole, I read it. I was crying river while delivering it alone inside my room. I originally wrote the piece untitled, it seemed like incomplete without it but… “It was the best piece that I wrote,” I told myself. I was that satisfied. It was as perfect as a full moon. It was as flawfully beautiful as the crescent moon. And I thanked God for that. 

My mother was the first one I read it to and asked what she thought about it. Her reaction was the same as mine, “It was great.” She said. 

In the morning I went to school prepared. My heart was pumping again, wanting to get out of my chest this time. Good thing that only one teacher listened to us at first but that did not stop the nervousness that I was feeling as I presented my piece. My hands were shaking but I was able to deliver it better than I thought. I got more satisfied when Ms. Pacaña, the teacher who was listening and the one who was assigned to coach the chosen one, was happy with what I’ve prepared. After her, she brought us to the office and let us present in front of her colleagues, one of them was Ms. Dakay, the one who forgot to inform me. I could not recall how I made it because all I could think of were the pressure and the unpayable joy I felt when they chose me. Yes, I made it to the real competition.

I was walking on clouds as I traced my way back home, and could not hide what I was feeling. I told my mother the great news as I arrived and she was beyond happy about that. As I reached my room that was the time that I showed how happy I really was. I could not stop jumping and thanking God for the opportunity. 

As I made it to another level, of course, I brought it to another level of pressure too. But what boosted my confidence was the message I received from Ms. Pacaña. It said “I really like spoken poetry and I have never met someone that met my expectations but you. You made me satisfied.”

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